


Dirt in the Skirts

by notameeksassenach



Category: A League of Their Own (1992), Outlander & Related Fandoms, Outlander (TV), Outlander Series - Diana Gabaldon
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-09-01
Updated: 2018-09-01
Packaged: 2019-07-05 13:26:10
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,130
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15864522
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/notameeksassenach/pseuds/notameeksassenach
Summary: What happens when Claire Beauchamp-Randall joins the All American Girls' Professional Baseball League. An A League of Their Own / Outlander Crossover.





	Dirt in the Skirts

_With our boys overseas and off to war, baseball pitches in for the war effort! Baseball’s biggest stars say “Look out Mr. Hitler. The Yanks are coming!” And the Indians and Red Sox, too! And they won’t come back until it’s over, over there!_

_Baseball may be shut down for the duration of the war. Detroit Tigers owner and automobile mogul, Colum MacKenzie held meetings with other team owners to discuss the fate of their beloved sport. With fears that the sport would be shut down for the duration of the war, Colum’s younger brother, Dougal Mackenzie, has been charged with finding a way to keep baseball going. With any luck, the promotional whiz can find a way to keep the bases loaded!_

*

Preparing for another day of chores, Claire Beauchamp-Randall quickly tied up the laces of her trainers. The simple routine of it allowed her mind to wander and she thought back on how she came to be in this exact moment. Originally hailing from England, her parents had uprooted their family when the opportunity to own the farm had arisen. Claire’s world quickly became centered around helping her parents by working on the farm. 

When she married Frank nearly six years prior, she packed up the few possessions that were precious to her,, put aside the naive girl who knew nothing outside of her family’s farm and quickly learned to navigate the city streets. Claire acclimated well and was much like the other twenty-somethings around her who grew up in the sleepy suburbs of Boston.

Frank, who was a history professor at Harvard, had swept Claire off her feet from the moment they had met. She was only nineteen at the time, and he was much older and had an air of mystery about him. Settling herself into her new role as wife, Claire spent most of her days doting on Frank, ensuring all his needs were met, and that she left a good impression on his colleagues. She quickly became the model wife, putting aside any dreams she may have for the sake of her husband.

Claire never thought she would find her way back to Beauchamp Family Farm, always hoping to find something more than the routine life it offered. But life has a way of throwing curveballs at you when you least expect them. Since the beginning of the war, she found herself back home. Frank, ever the patriot, saw it as his duty to put down his books in favor of joining the fight.

 

After checking the chickens and cows, it was time to make her way to the garden. With it being her sanctuary, Claire could easily lose herself in the tending of her plants. Making her way through rows and rows of vegetables and flowers, she was so engrossed in her duties that she didn’t notice that she was no longer alone among the flora.

“Claire!” Geillis shouted and quickly dissolved into giggles as she startled her friend. 

Claire turned to face her, clutching her chest. She shot the other woman a look of disdain as she tried to calm her heart from being nearly frightened to death. Picking up a trowel full of dirt, she flung it in Geillis’ direction.

“There’s no need to scare me like that!”

Claire should have expected the other woman to come out of nowhere. Geillis was a regular occurrence on the farm. Having been best friends growing up, it was not unheard of to find one where you found the other. Whether it was in the garden where they shared their love of plants, or on the baseball diamond where they shared a passion for the game, the two were thick as thieves. It was another benefit to being back home, Claire had been able to rekindle the friendship she once had with Geillis. As well as getting the chance to lose herself in the sport she cherished.

“Ye better get your glove, Claire. Ye ken it’s almost time for the game!”

“You seem more giddy than usual, Gellie. You normally reserve that level of excitement for the games you pitch.”

Geillis was the star pitcher for the local women's baseball league the two played for, though she wouldn’t be pitching in today’s game. It was only fair to switch off and allow everyone the chance to play the position. Their team was made up of a mixture of Scottish and English baseball enthusiasts, and they aptly named themselves the Swinging Sassenachs. There were several of these small leagues in the area. All coordinated by the players, it gave the women a chance to play a sport that was dominated by men. They made up their own seasons and played as if they were making their way to the World Series. A good time was had all around, and Claire couldn’t wait to take her place behind home plate as the team’s catcher.

*

_Bottom of the ninth, one out, one on base._ The Swinging Sassenachs were down 2-0. Geillis knew there was a lot riding on her as she grabbed her bat and made her way towards home plate.

“Gellie, watch out for those high ones!” Claire shouted over the crowd. The redhead had a tendency to imitate a lumberjack rather than Babe Ruth, trying to hit all the high balls. 

“Quit naggin’ Claire. I like the high ones!”

Positioning herself, she began to focus on the task at hand. As the ball approached home plate, she swung and missed. 

“Strike one!” called the umpire. 

Shaking it off, Geillis tried to get her head back into the game. She took a deep breath and readied herself for the next pitch. She could see the ball coming towards her as if it were in slow motion. With a swoosh and a crack, the ball was gone. Geillis took off and successfully made it to second base before the ball reentered the infield. 

As the lineup continued, the Swinging Sassenachs were still down 2-0 but had picked up another out. Making her way to the plate, Claire knew the fate of the game was in her hands. If she were to strike out, the game would be over and they would be adding another loss to their season. What she really needed was a home run. That would ensure a win, putting them at a final score of 3-2.

Claire had always been good under pressure, which earned her the spot as the cleanup hitter. Digging her cleats into the dirt, she found her sweet spot. Visualizing the ball coming straight down the middle, connecting with the bat, sending it deep into right field.

The only thing Claire was aware of was the roar of the crowd, and her feet as they made contact with each plate as she made her way around the bases. 

“And the Swinging Sassenachs come from behind to win the game 3-2! Well done ladies!”

But what Claire didn’t notice was the spectator that wasn’t participating in the celebrations. Instead, he was still in his seat, silently studying the scene before him.

*

Upon returning to the farm, the girls busied themselves with the completion of the day’s remaining chores. The two chattered back and forth, recalling every little detail of the game, as they tended the goats, sheep, and horses. 

“Ye should have seen the crowd when you hit that home run, Claire.” Geillis cupped her hands around her mouth, imitating the sound of a roaring crowd.

Claire responded with a reddening of her cheeks, and a shower of hay aimed directly at Geillis’ head. Anticipating the reaction. Geillis ducked, causing the offending hay to hit the gentleman neither of them had noticed behind her square in the face.

“Oh! I’m terribly sorry. Can we help you with something?” Claire apologized as she suspiciously eyed the man before her.

Wiping his face and untangling the debris from his beard, the gruff looking man responded. 

“Aye. The name is Murtagh Fraser, baseball scout. I saw ye playing ball today.” his voice matched his gruff demeanor.

“And what of it?” Geillis asked, clearly curious as to why this stranger had any interest in their abilities. Claire could tell that this stranger had definitely peaked Geillis’ interest.

“Ever hear of Colum Mackenzie? Mackenzie Motors? Ye ken, the automobiles?”

Both women stared blankly back at Murtagh. Unfazed by their lack of reaction, he continued. 

“He’s starting a girl’s baseball league while the boys are overseas.”

“And what does that have to do with us?” Claire questioned. She was running out of patience for this man in front of her. She still had chores to finished before dinner. 

“It’s a real league, professional ye ken. Dinna ye want to play professional baseball?”

There was still no reaction from the dark-haired lass. The redhead, on the other hand, acted as if she would burst at the seams with excitement. Realizing that he needed to get the point sooner rather than later, he continued on.

“Look, yer country needs you. And ye can not only play ball, but both of ye are kinda dollies.”

“Dollies? Now listen here you. I’m a married woman! My husband is currently overseas!” Claire was done. Pushing past Murtagh, she made her way to the door where she was waiting for him to get the hint that he was free to leave. 

“I didna mean any offense mistress. ‘Tis just that they want girls that are easy on the eye.”

“I’ll go. I’m ready right now. Do I have to sign something?” Gellis had always been the one of the two who was up for any challenge, the one who tended to not look before she lept. 

Taking one final shot to make a hard sell, Murtagh left the girls with an envelope containing all the information as well as their train tickets. “The train leaves for Detroit tomorrow. What do ye say? Are ye in?”

“Ye..” Geillis began before Claire cut her off in one swift motion.

Turning back to Murtagh, Claire responded. “We’ll have to think about it. Good day sir.”

With a curt nod, Murtagh excused himself from the barn, grumbling as he made his way through a throng of chickens who were eagerly eating outside the barn. 

“What are we to do, Claire?” asked Geillis. 

“I’m not sure Gellie. I’m not sure what I want to do.”

“Claire, I’m going to play with or without ye. I just hope it's with ye.” And without another word, the redhead left the farmhouse, closing the door shut behind her.

*  
Still reeling from the baseball scout’s offer to play professional baseball, Claire weighed her options in her head. On one hand, she loved the game and would love the opportunity to play and show the country just what women could do. But at the same time, she had wanted to embrace the simpler life while she waited for Frank to return from war. But maybe Murtagh had been right. Maybe her country did need her. 

Hearing a knock on the front door, Claire pulled herself from her thoughts. 

_Who could be knocking at this hour? Mama and Dad weren’t expecting guests. It can’t be Gellie, she’d just let herself in._

Releasing the locks, Claire slowly opened the door. She wasn’t prepared for what she found on the other side. The one sight that she had hoped and prayed she would never see. 

A Western Union messenger.

Claire could feel her knees go weak as she struggled to find her voice.

“M...May I help you?”

“A telegram for Mrs. Beauchamp-Randall,” he said matter of factly. “It’s from the War Department.”

“I’m…” she had to swallow the lump that had formed in her throat. “I’m Mrs. Beauchamp-Randall.”

He placed the letter in her hand before tipping his hat and turning to leave. Claire stood there staring at her hands, the letter still sealed. A myriad of thoughts went through her head, jumping from one to the next. 

She wasn’t sure how she had gotten there, but Claire had made her way back inside and was seated at the kitchen table. Slowly she began to open the letter, praying that it wasn’t what she thought it was. 

_Maybe Frank just sent word that he was being discharged. Maybe he’s coming home._

With a rush of tears blurring her vision, she knew that the letter contained the confirmation that Frank was indeed coming home-- coming home so that he could be properly buried.

Dropping the telegram onto the table, Claire buried her head in the hands. She wasn’t sure what she was going to do now without Frank

Using the back of her hands to wipe the tears from her face, she glanced down at the telegram, nestled right next to the offer to play baseball.


End file.
